


After Crash

by thepsychicclam



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-23
Updated: 2013-12-23
Packaged: 2018-01-05 15:57:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1095867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepsychicclam/pseuds/thepsychicclam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Felicity doesn’t like it when he comes back covered in blood. And lately, that seemed to be Oliver’s preferred way of returning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	After Crash

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fadedink](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fadedink/gifts).



Felicity doesn’t like it when he comes back covered in blood. And lately, that seemed to be Oliver’s preferred way of returning.

“What happened?” she asks. Oliver’s got all his weight pressed into Diggle, arm around his shoulder. Felicity’s hovering around like a hummingbird, over excitable and feeling completely out of her element. Computers, hacking, technology – that she can do. Real people with _blood flowing from them_? Not her division.

“Oliver seems to think he’s Superman,” Diggle says as he helps Oliver into a chair.

“Funny,” Oliver manages, and Felicity can tell just by his voice how injured he really is.

“That’s not a really good standard to hold yourself to, because Superman was an alien with crazy super powers, and you’re just a really well-trained guy with really _huge, impressive_ muscles, and – “ Felicity pauses when Oliver and Diggle both look at her, and she takes a few steps back. “Not really helping, yeah, I know. I’m gonna stand over here.”

Diggle disappears for a few moments while Oliver removes his tunic. There’s a slash wound and a bullet hole, both oozing blood. “Grab the kit in the bottom drawer,” Oliver instructs through clenched teeth as he touches the wounds to assess the damage. 

Felicity’s hands are shaking when she bends down to grab the medical supplies from the cabinet. This is her least favorite part: the adrenaline crash, the moments after Oliver’s saved the day when they’re left with the consequences bleeding onto the floor. Most of the time, the payoff is enough; most of the time knowing they saved Starling City from this week’s evil justified the dangers. 

But there were times when she saw Oliver cut open and bleeding, or Diggle hissing in pain – or sometimes her own reflection in the mirror smeared with blood and colored purple – these were the moments when she saw what they all sacrificed and wondered if it was worth it.

Because sometimes, Felicity could be selfish just like everyone else.

Felicity takes a steadying breath and walks with a confident stride over to Oliver. She knows this will be scar fourteen and bullet hole five. She’s kept a count, thinks she could map out Oliver’s life as the Arrow through the scars on his skin. 

“Thanks,” he says. His hands are caked with dry blood and dirt.

“You know that’s not very sanitary,” she says. He just looks up at her, and she sighs. “I can help. My hands are clean.” She holds them up, palms facing out. 

“Can you stitch a wound?” Oliver asks.

“I can sew a button on a coat,” Felicity replies. “And I stitched a busted seam in a shirt once.”

“Good enough,” Oliver says. He hands Felicity a needle and thread. “The bullet went straight through, so just patch it up.”

“You say that way too casually,” she mutters as she glares at the needle and thread. Since working with Oliver, Felicity has faced psychopaths, mass murders, and even busted someone out of a Russian prison. Stitching a wound is child’s play.

Oliver’s breath is quiet and measured as Felicity pierces his skin. There’s a grotesque pattern to the movements, to the loops of thread and the pull of skin tissue together. Just like everything Felicity understands, there’s a unique scientific fascination and appreciation, and before she realizes it, she has stitched Oliver’s wounds.

“Nice job,” he says as he surveys her work. “I’m impressed.”

“Nice to know that I can add _wound stitcher_ to my list of practical skills,” Felicity says as she drops the needle into the metal tray.

“Definitely makes you an asset around here,” Diggle says as he comes back into the room with towels for Oliver. “Especially if Oliver decides to continue his suicidal crusade.”

“It’s not a suicidal crusade,” Oliver argues as he takes one of the damp towels and gently wipes the blood from his skin. “I’m doing what I’ve always done. Protect Starling City.”

“Lately, just with more reckless abandon.” Diggle leans against the counter and crosses his arms, setting Oliver with a hard expression.

“Do you ever just feel,” Oliver starts, gripping the towel in his fist, “that it’s never going to be enough? That unless we fight harder, and stronger, we’ll never do any good?”

“You won’t do any good if you’re dead,” Felicity says. Oliver scowls and exhales heavily through his nose. “I’m just saying.”

“We’ve stopped killing people, we’ve tried to be more careful, and people just keep coming out in droves,” Oliver says. “I think Roy contacts me every other day now.”

“That just may be his massive man crush on you,” Felicity says.

“Man crush?”

“Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed,” Felicity says.

“Even I’ve noticed, and I’ve never thought the word _mancrush_ in my life,” Diggle says.

“You’re missing the point!” Oliver exclaims.

“We’re not,” Diggle says, “And we understand. We’re in this with you one hundred percent, Oliver, and we share your frustration. But sacrificing yourself and purposefully putting yourself in harm’s way to defeat the enemy at any cost?” Diggle shakes his head. “That’s not good for anyone.”

Oliver doesn’t respond; he just goes over to the drawer where he keeps his extra clothes and pulls out a t-shirt. Felicity watches him closely as he tugs the shirt over his head with a bit of difficulty, takes in the tense shoulders, the clenched jaw, the rigid posture. Without fully thinking it through, she crosses to him and lays a hand on his shoulder. He presses into her touch.

“We’d rather have you around, Oliver,” she says. “You’ve made a huge difference in Starling City since you started, and you will continue. But it’s not worth killing yourself over. It’s not just John and I who will miss you.” Oliver sighs. “You don’t want to put them through that again.”

Felicity drops her hand as Oliver turns around. “We need to come up with some better ideas,” he says. “Something to help bridge the gap.”

Diggle nods. “Okay, we can work on that.”

“I can start running some different scenarios, do some research to find some better weapons,” Felicity says. 

“You can always pull Roy into this,” Diggle suggests. “The kid’s not half bad, and another body wouldn’t hurt.”

Oliver looks at them both, then gives them a small smile. “Thanks, guys.”

“Of course,” Felicity says. Because even when there’s blood to clean off the floor, her adrenaline’s crashed, and blood’s caked on her own hands, this is why she stays. 

This is why she’ll always stay.


End file.
